


How To Court a Murderer

by doobler



Category: Game Grumps, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Criminal AU, Eventual Smut, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Slow Burn, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-03 11:31:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler
Summary: Danny is just an up and coming musician trying to get by in the hellhole that is Los Santos when he meets a mysterious man that completely captures his attention.





	1. Chapter 1

Success was a blessing and a curse, Dan decided, not that he’d ever say it out loud. He knew having his dream career and making dick jokes for a living was one of the most incredible things he’d ever accomplished and not a day went by where he wasn’t thankful. Sometimes, though, he did find himself at wit’s end.

“Pokémon is the second best-selling video game franchise, behind only Nintendo's Mario franchise, and the highest-grossing media franchise of all time…..” Dan muttered aloud, taking a slow bite of his grilled cheese sandwich.

The Rusty Spoon Diner was only about half a mile from his apartment and open 24/7, making it the perfect spot to inhale milkshakes while studying for the next song in Starbomb’s album. He knew the wait staff so well, he often got free milkshakes and fries whenever he stayed past midnight.

Gnawing at the end of his highlighter, Dan didn’t notice nor care as another patron took the barstool one away from him. He barely acknowledged the man’s order– a Diet Coke float and an order of fries– and didn’t even bother making eye contact.

“Pikachu, Magnemite… Shit. Uhh… What else can rhyme…." 

Dan was halfway down his third page of notes when a wave of icy cold drink splashed across his work, drenching his hands and cheatsheets in sticky ice cream and soda. Danny yelped, nearly toppling out of his chair.

"Holy shit, I’m so sorry–”

The man who’d been sitting next to him hopped up, feverishly swabbing at the mess with a fistful of napkins. He apologized over and over, trying his best to cover up the mishap.

“I should watch where my elbows wind up but you also should probably leave the Stone Age behind,” The man half chuckled, still looking sheepish. “Pretty sure laptops have been around long enough at this point.”

“Yeah, and it’d be fried thanks to you, pal! I don’t think computers can drink ice cream floats.” Dan forced a laugh. He was upset but the work would be easily made up in no time.

“Hey, I’m really sorry, is there anything I can do to help?”

Danny finally took a good look at his accidental assaulter. He had eyes bluer than the sky and hair like toasted amber. He looked genuinely upset which immediately put Dan at ease. At least the poor bastard was being honest.

“You could order me another grilled cheese if you really wanted,” Danny replied, a small smile playing at his lips. “Or a strawberry milkshake.”

“Done and done.” The man grinned right back, looking a lot like a puppy eager to please.

They sat together in silence for a moment, the stranger trying not to be obvious as he read the remains of Danny’s notes. Dan tried to not notice, as well as the unmistakable cuts around the man’s fingers.

“Pokemon, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone write a dissertation on it but hey, I won’t judge." 

"It’s for a stupid music thing,” Danny groaned. “I was gonna make a parody with a couple buddies of mine but maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Bullshit,” the man slapped the table for emphasis. “It was just an idiotic accident made by an… Idiot. It isn’t fate– you write whatever the fuck you wanna write, life’s too short for regrets.”

Dan went to open his mouth, only for the man to slide him a freshly spun strawberry milkshake and a steaming grilled cheese sandwich.

“Good luck,” the man winked, dropping his cash on the counter. “But maybe get some rest first. Creative juices can’t flow too well when you’re five seconds to passing out.”

With that, he left.

Danny went for his drink, only to notice something scrawled on a napkin at his elbow. It was a phone number and a name.

“Ryan.”


	2. Chapter 2

-Two weeks later-

 

Danny and Ryan had hung out a few times since the diner incident, meeting at Dan's dilapidated apartment complex to play video games and talk about nothing for hours. There was a bizarre air that surrounded Ryan that drew Danny in. He was warm and inviting but something flickered behind his eyes that piqued Dan's curiosity.  
"Do you think you could play blindfolded?" Ryan thought aloud, munching on a handful of chips.  
"Blindfolded?" Danny leaned to the right, mashing down on his controller to smash White Tiger right in the jaw. Little Mac did a little victory dance in triumph. "Maybe like. The first few guys but the major circuit assholes would rip me a new one for sure."  
"You should test that someday, see how far you get. I believe in your superior Punch Out abilities."  
Danny chuckled, glancing over at his new found friend. Ryan was the picture of content, ankles crossed, hands folded across his chest, eyes lidded as he watched the TV. It put Dan at ease and his body relaxed in response.  
"Hey, uh, do you have any plans this Friday?" Danny spoke up after a moment.  
"This Friday? Uh no I dont think so. Why?"  
"Well there's a cafe downtown," Dan grunted, yanking his controller to the left. "And I uh am doing a little unplugged performance. It's just me, both my band mates have prior uh engagements."  
"What're you performing?"  
"Ehh just a few covers, acoustic. You game?"  
Ryan thought for a moment then smiled, wide and warm.  
"Yeah, I'm game."

 

"You all good here?"  
Danny nodded, flashing a quick smile. It was unlike him to be nervous for a performance. Music had always been a constant in his life, a means for comfort and escape. Even bigger venues never gave him jitters like this. He checked the mic about a million times, tuned his guitar a million more, and rechecked the lyrics on his phone at least double that.  
"You ok there, Avidan?" Rick, the owner, look concerned. "I ain't never seen you this worked up."  
"I'm fine, don't sweat it." Dan replied.  
"Alright well whenever you're ready."  
Danny scanned the crowd. Late on a Friday night, the cafe was packed. He recognized a few familiar faces, regulars and friends alike. Just as he started to warm up, he heard the door open and Ryan ambled inside. The younger man waved and Danny returned the gesture.  
"Ok. Time to go."  
Clearing his throat, Dan leaned into the microphone.  
"Evenin' ladies and gents, I'm Daniel Avidan and I'm gonna play some nice chill funky jams for you tonight, hope you enjoy."  
Dan played the beginning chords to Rock With You, immediately calmed by the familiar beat. He had no reason to be nervous, he decided, swallowed his anxiety, and sang.  
The audience acted as it always did when he performed at the cafe. Most people continued their conversations, munching on pastries, sipping at their drinks. Some people mouthed along with him, swaying and clapping with the beat. Every so often, Danny looked up and his eyes met Ryan's across the room. He was beaming, looking beyond proud, and snapping his fingers in time.   
When the song finished, he got quiet and sparse applause. The next song bled into the one after as Danny weaved a tapestry of his favorite 80's hits. He stopped at four, noticing a group waiting to perform right after him.  
"Thank you, I hope you have a great night, remember to tip your waitresses and the croissants here are fucking delicious."  
There was tepid laughter, making Danny smile as he packed up and made his way to the back. Ryan clapped his shoulder, smiling from ear to ear.  
"You told me you were in a band but I had no idea you were so good!" He beamed.  
"You sayin' you doubted me, Haywood?" Dan retorted, mirroring his smile.  
"I'm sayin' I'm extremely impressed."   
Dan flushed, only to shake it off. It was only a compliment from a new friend, there was no reason for it to make his heart race.  
"You wanna grab somethin' to eat or...?"   
"I can't," Ryan looked sheepish, running a hand through his hair. "I've got work to catch up on at home."  
"What kinda work?"  
"Oh, y'know," Ryan shrugged. "Office work. I'm in IT so the hours get weird. I'll see you around though, yeah?"  
"Yeah, yeah, of course," Danny adjusted his grip on his guitar, trying not to sound disappointed. "We can catch lunch sometime or whatever the fuck."  
"Hey, I'm always down for whatever the fuck."  
With that, Ryan fled, leaving Danny with a fluttering in his stomach.


	3. Chapter 3

-Six months later-

 

An uncomfortable air of unease hung around Danny's apartment. Once again, he was by himself, Brian out of the state for some sort of scientific conference and Arin spending the night at a friend's after a long winded livestream. Usually, solitary nights were fine. The door to the apartment had five different locks and the windows were reinforced. It was on the top floor, nestled in the farthest corner, with the only entrance being three flights of stairs. Danny knew, most of the time, that even in the underbelly of Los Santos, he was safe.  
He brewed himself a cup of strong tea and pulled out his iPod, eagerly looking for a calming playlist, when a heavy knocking came at the door. Dan's heart jumped in his throat and he pressed himself deeper into the couch.  
"Dan.... Dan it's Ryan... Please...."  
With a gasp, Danny flung himself at the door, dipping his head to peer through the peephole. Ryan was slumped over, dripping wet with rain and something much thicker than water. Undoing every lock, Dan pulled the door open, yelping as Ryan collapsed against him.  
"What the actual fuck, Ryan?!" Dan's voice rose a few octaves.  
"I tried... To take a detour... Got in the... Crosshairs of some fuckin'... Spat..."  
Danny led him inside, helping him onto the couch before locking the door tight and sprinting towards the bathroom. Brian was far more level headed in these situations and for a moment, Dan contemplated calling him. A soft groan from the living room snapped him to attention however, so he settled on snatching up the first aid kit they had, along with extra gauze and Neosporin.  
"I have some painkillers if you want," Dan spoke up, gingerly placing a bandaid across Ryan's bicep. The younger man's breathing was ragged and shallow. "But I don't have any, like. Alcohol if that's supposed to help."  
"That's fine, I don't drink..." Ryan replied, slumping further down the couch.  
"You're fucking insane, you know that?" Dan stammered. "What the fuck were you thinking?"  
"I wasn't..." A wave of strength washed over Ryan as he hauled himself upwards. He gently pried the first aid kit from Dan's fingers and began dressing his own injuries. The worst was a slash across his stomach that ran almost all the way across. None of the wounds were deep however, more like violent paper cuts than stabs. A mouthful of painkillers would almost definitely be enough to ward off the pain. "Thanks..."  
Danny watched, guilt ripping at his gut. He and Ryan had become fast friends, spending at least a day or two each week hanging out. Ryan was witty and sharp as a tack but also funny and genuinely warm. There was an air of calm that seemed to surround him that was infectious. They bonded over the same shows and music and Ryan had shown him the best of Los Santos in such a short amount of time. In his entire history, though, Dan had never had a friend knock on his door, bleeding into the carpet and begging for shelter. A melting pot of mixed emotions settled in the pit of Dan's being.  
"You should spend the night here." Danny blurted out. "I'll make you some soup or something and you can take my bed, no fucking arguing. I can't let you be on your own with fucking holes in you."  
Ryan looked shocked for a moment, only to smile. He finally relaxed, sinking into the cushions.  
"Thank you, Dan. You're pretty fucking amazing, not gonna lie."  
In a matter of moments, Ryan was asleep, breathing softly. There was no way Dan could haul his broader frame all the way into his bedroom, so he opted to spending the night on guard duty, watching the rise and fall of Ryan's chest as he slept.

 

The next morning, Danny woke up with a mouth full of hair and drool. He smacked his lips, pulling himself upright with a yawn, only to jump in his skin. He'd fallen asleep on the couch with Ryan, somehow reclining in the crook of his friend's neck sometime during the night. There was an unmistakable patch of drool on Ryan's skin that made Danny's cheek burn.  
He snuck off the couch, making his way to the kitchen to whip up breakfast. Last night felt like a horrible nightmare. Never in his life did he think he'd ever witness something so undeniably upsetting and graphic. Danny shuddered. That image would probably stir up bad dreams for weeks.  
"Mornin'."  
Danny poked his head out of the kitchen. Ryan was awake, his head lolling back to offer his companion a brusque smile. He looked miserable but made an effort to seem chipper.  
"You makin' breakfast?"  
"You like scrambled eggs?"  
"I could probably eat a few dozen chickens, whole, if I could right now."  
"That's fucking gross, Rye."

 

"I owe you big time."  
Danny looked up from his coffee, brows quirked.  
"You quite literally saved my life, Dan," Ryan looked serious, blue eyes blazing with a wild intensity. "I owe you my life."  
"Don't get so melodramatic," Danny replied. The fluttering in his stomach was back. "I did what anyone else would've done--"  
"No, Dan. You didn't. You did much more than that and I'm forever indebted to you."  
Danny tried to match his gaze but an unnameable power made his knees shake. Ryan was a downright pleasant guy, all warmth and smiles. The raw energy in his gaze was alien, making Dan's skin crawl.  
"Alright, alright, I got it." He stammered, and the moment passed.  
"I gotta get to work," Ryan stood, taking his plate to the kitchen and rinsing off his hands. "It wouldn't look good if I was late on a Tuesday."  
"Go to work?!" Danny shot out of his seat. "What the fuck-- you have STAB wounds, what the hell are you talking about?!"  
Ryan calmly took Dan's hands into his own and a tenderness shone in his eyes.  
"I'll be fine. Thank you again, Daniel-- I'll see you for our usual lunch tomorrow, alright?"  
Ryan dropped a kiss, soft and sweet, on Danny's cheek, making the older man huff and splutter. Before he could stop him, Ryan was out the door and into the morning sun.  
Dan rubbed at his cheek, fingers ghosting over where Ryan had kissed him.  
He was fucked in so many directions and it was only Tuesday


	4. Chapter 4

-Five days later-

 

Everytime someone knocked on the front door, Danny had a miniature heart attack. He expected there to be a mangled body on his doorstep or a gang of thugs or anything that could haunt his nightmares. Instead, it was countless delivery men, all toting unmarked packages addressed to a Leigh Daniel Avidan. Each one was filled with some degree of expensive gift, from pure gold jewelry to rare vinyl records, expensive jackets and passes to indulgent spas.  
"'Nother one for you," Arin called on the sixth morning, tossing his roommate and best friend the box. "Either there's been a tragic mix up or you have a real fuckin' rich admirer."  
"It's... Ryan." Danny replied. He opened the box and groaned. Ten matching titanium rings sat inside. "I... Helped him out a week ago and now he thinks he owes me a fuckin' life debt or somethin'."  
"... That's all?"  
Dan looked up, watching Arin as he plopped down beside him. The younger man looked exhausted, having spent the last few weeks travelling in and out of the state.  
"Dan, I'm gonna be really real with you right now." Arin began.   
"Yeah, ok?"  
"Ryan wants your nuts, bro."  
"What?!"  
Arin threw his hands up, only to drag them down his face. He shook his head in disbelief before gripping Dan's shoulder.  
"He wants the D. Your D. For Dan. And also for Dick."  
"Pfft," Danny spluttered, waving dismissively. "No way, nuh uh, not possible. He's probably straight. I think he's just--"  
"Dan, c'mon. I know you like him, too. So does Brian. You never stop talking about him. Ever. You guys have lunch dates almost three times a week. He goes to every single one of your performances. He hugs you for way longer than is socially acceptable between two 'just friends'."  
Danny pursed his lips, avoiding Arin's gaze. When they looked back at each other, Arin's face softened and he offered his friend a gentle smile.  
"Do somethin' about it, Dan. It's been seven months. You gotta stop dancin' around and start, y'know. Makin' something. Yeah?"  
"I. I guess. I dunno. Lemme sleep on it?"  
Arin rolled his eyes, grinning wide. He pulled Danny into a warm hug, squeezing him affectionately.  
"It's up to you, bro. You know what's best for you."  
With that, Arin let out a yawn, shuffling into his room for a well deserved mid-morning nap. Danny watched him go, the cogs in his brain working hard to keep up. He pulled out his phone and texted Ryan.

Me: hey u wanna grab lunch?

Rye-guy: Can't. Business trip. Will be back soon. ❤️

Danny sighed, mentally smacking himself upside the head. That was fine. He could wait. Ryan was a busy guy but he always came back in a timely fashion. Retrieving his guitar, Danny strummed a few random chords, warming up to resume his own work.  
He could wait. He was good at waiting.


	5. Chapter 5

-One month later-

 

Rye-guy: Dinner? I can be there in 5.

Danny rubbed the sleep from his eyes, stifling a yawn. His phone said "sent now" but his clock read 12:30am. Bedtime had been an hour and a half ago. He wasn't even awake enough to be upset, clumsily typing a reply.

Me: wher

Rye-guy: I know a place open late. Craving steak. You game?

Me: yeds

Dan drifted back to sleep, slack-jawed, only to jolt awake when his phone rang. He'd been out for only 8 minutes. Ryan was calling. With a groan, Dan swiped right.  
"Mmyeah?" He mumbled, throwing off the sheets and pulling himself upright.  
"Hey, sleepyhead, I'm here." Ryan replied. He sounded equally tired but his voice was warm and familiar. "Move your ass, I'm starving."  
Dan muttered incoherently, hanging up and yawning again. He stumbled his way into a pair of jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt, remembering his wallet, keys, and shoes at the last minute. Pocketing his phone, he stepped out of the apartment and made his way down the stairs. Parked directly outside was the classiest car Dan had ever seen. It was a glossy jet black and hummed like a content jaguar. With every step he took, Danny became more and more awake until he was at the door and pissed.  
"What the actual fuck, Haywood?!" He thumped his fist on the door. "First you disappear for a whole fucking month without a word then you wake up me in the fucking middle of the night?! What are you even driving?! What--"  
Ryan leaned across the passenger's seat and threw open the door. When their eyes met, Ryan looked heartbroken, genuine pain in his eyes.  
"Just. Get in. I'll make it up to you."  
Danny eyed him warily, stepping into the car. Ryan waited until he was buckled and situated before he started driving.  
They rode in silence, watching the canvas of late night Los Santos whizz by. Danny spared a few wayward glances, taking in the bags under Ryan's eyes, the impatient tap of his fingers, the way his clothes looked clean but disheveled. His usual stubble was more scruffy looking and his cheeks were slightly sunken.  
"You look like shit." Dan finally spoke up. Ryan barked a laugh.  
"Yeah. I bet I do."  
"Where the fuck have you been?"  
"That's... Definitely a question," Ryan sighed. When they stopped at a red light, his eyes glazed over. "That I'll answer soon. I promise."  
"I mean. It isn't technically my business but you didn't respond to any of my texts and it was so sudden." Dan pursed his lips slightly. He wouldn't be so upset if the circumstances of his friend's return hadn't been so ominous.  
"Business crisis. But it's been resolved."  
"An IT crisis? What's that look like, a sudden lack of snacks in the office?"  
Ryan laughed, softer this time.  
"A bit more severe than that."  
Dan surrendered, realizing this would go nowhere. Instead, he looked out the window, finding himself in an unfamiliar area of the city. When he looked back at Ryan, the younger man was beaming.  
"I missed you, Dan. I wanted to take you somewhere nicer than our usual Tex-Mex place."  
The car door opened, making Danny jump. A man dressed in formal wear held it, gesturing for Dan to exit. He clambered out, blinking at the wash of bright lights. There was red satin everywhere, as well as golden accents and dark glass.  
"This is like. Easily one of the most expensive restaurants in the city." Danny pointed out, his jaw nearly on the floor. He suddenly felt extremely underdressed in ripped denim and a rumpled Nirvana tee. Ryan simply offered his elbow, leading the older man inside.  
The hostess nodded knowingly, another one appearing to lead them to their table. The restaurant looked empty save for the duo. They followed the woman to a secluded corner, sitting at a round booth. She handed them both menus before pulling a curtain, giving them ultimate privacy.  
Danny looked around, starstruck, prompting a giggle from Ryan.  
"What. The fuck."   
Ryan laughed even louder. His grin made Dan's heart hurt, hammering in his chest.   
"My treat. Order whatever you want, price doesn't matter."  
"Do they have chicken fingers?"  
Ryan didn't reply, simply browsing his menu with a faint smile. After a few minutes, a waiter arrived, silently standing to take their order.  
"Two glasses of your best sparkling cider," Ryan began. "The calamari appetizer, the filet mignon with Rogue River Blue cheese, an order of fries, and..."  
He looked at Dan, only to be met with sheer bewilderment.  
"The closest thing you've got to chicken fingers."  
The waiter nodded, speeding off without a word.   
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, neither sure of what to say. Danny folded his hands on top of the table, twiddling his thumbs idly. His heart seemed to stop altogether as Ryan covered his hands with his own, scooting closer.   
"There's so much I wish I could tell you." Ryan whispered.  
"You can tell me, Rye, I'm not the type to judge-- I mean. I uh."  
"I've been smitten with you since we met in that shitty diner," Ryan inhaled deeply, avoiding Dan's gaze. "I was intent on keeping you close and not letting go."  
"I've been told creepier things."  
"Shut up," Ryan huffed, rolling his eyes. "It hurt more than anything to leave for so long without warning. I felt so terrible, I hope I can make it up to you."  
"You could kiss me." Danny replied without even thinking.  
Ryan closed the distance between them in an instant. He pressed a soft kiss to Dan's lips, releasing his hands to sneak an arm around his waist. His biceps flexed as he practically dragged Dan halfway across his lap. The older man yelped, his surprise smothered by the curve of Ryan's mouth. Everything seemed to be going so fast but at the same time, he'd been waiting nearly seven months for this moment. Dan gave in, tangling his fingers in Ryan's hair and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Ryan tasted like smoke and aspartame.  
The waitress reappeared with drinks and their appetizer, making Danny jump. He skittered back onto the booth, flushing as Ryan laughed.  
"That was real fuckin' embarrassing." Dan snapped, avoiding the younger man's gaze.  
"I'm sorry, that was cruel," Ryan tried to swallow his giggles, moving the plate of calamari closer to them. "C'mon, eat up. I'm famished."

 

When they finally climbed back into Ryan's car, it was nearly 3am. Danny was exhausted and stuffed. He'd no doubt be dreaming of those chicken fingers for at least a couple weeks. He drifted off as Ryan drove.  
"There's still so much you don't know," Ryan thought aloud. "So much I can't tell you because I care about you too much. And I'm sorry for that. I only... I only want to keep you safe."  
Danny stirred, curling up as best as he could in his seat. He reminded Ryan of those fluffy cats that seemed to be more fur than animal. The image made his heart clench.  
"I'll always protect you, Danny. I swear."

**Author's Note:**

> psst you should check out my art blog at doobler.tumblr.com


End file.
